The Glass Ceiling
by thedragonaunt
Summary: Molly Hooper and Mrs Holmes meet for the first time at the Bake Street Christmas Drinky-poos. Written in response to The Bechdel Test challenge in the Mrs Hudson's Kitchen forum.


**Written for the 'Bechdel Test Challenge', in Mrs Hudson's Kitchen fan forum. And written before S4 aired so is an AU for that season. :)**

 **The Glass Ceiling**

 **by**

 **thedragonaunt**

The Baker Street Christmas Eve gathering had become something of a tradition, particularly since Sherlock's mother had become a more prominent feature of his life. His promise to 'keep in touch' – rather rashly made at a time of stress – had come back to bite him. Mrs Holmes had made it her mission to hold him to it, aided and abetted by Mrs Hudson, in whom the Holmes' family matriarch had found a very willing informant and confidant for all things Sherlock-related. So, one year on from the unfortunate goings-on at Appledore, the usual suspects were gathered once more in the sitting room of 221B.

Sherlock, needless to say, was making himself scarce, sulking in his bedroom. In his absence, Mary and John had stepped up to the plate and were acting as hosts, serving drinks and canapés. Mrs Hudson was in the kitchen, having a very animated conversation with Greg Lestrade, topic unknown, but it involved a great deal of hilarity on both sides. Mr Holmes was dozing on the sofa and Molly found herself sitting, rather self-consciously, in 'John's chair', opposite Mrs Violet Holmes.

The grand old lady fixed the young pathologist with a piercing gaze.

'And who are you, dear?' she asked, 'I don't believe we've been introduced.'

'I'm Molly, Mrs Holmes. Molly Hooper', Molly stammered, rather intimidated by the other lady's abrupt manner.

'And where do you fit into this ragtag assembly of odd-ball characters?' Violet inquired.

'I'm a pathologist. I work at St Bart's,' Molly replied, with a self-deprecating bob of her head.

'Pathologist at St Bart's? My word, Dr Hooper, that's nothing to be embarrassed about – or should I call you Miss? Are you a consultant?'

'Oh, no, I'm not a consultant!' Molly replied, with a nervous giggle.

'Did I say something funny?' snapped Violet.

'Er…er, no,' Molly stuttered, the colour rising in her already rosy cheeks. 'I'm so sorry…it's just that the very idea of me being a consultant…well…'

'Don't ever apologise for being undervalued, Doctor!' Mrs Holmes barked. 'The worth of women all over the world is incalculable but, alas, also under-estimated and summarily dismissed! Trust me, I should know!'

'R-really, Mrs Holmes? H-how so?' Molly asked, alarmed but also intrigued by the other lady's vehement retort.

'Where did you train, dear?' Violet asked, not answering the question directly.

'Cambridge,' Molly replied.

'Good pass?'

'First class Honours, top of my year,' Molly mumbled, looking round to see if anyone else was listening to her shameless act of self-promotion.

'Oh, very good! I'm an Oxford girl, myself,' said Mrs Holmes. 'And MIT – I did my PhD in Boston.'

Violet's expression softened and her eyes glazed over, as she recalled memories of her youthful past in the halls of academia. Molly sat quietly, giving the other lady the time and space that her introspection required. It lasted a few moments longer, then those piecing blue eyes snapped back to the here and now.

'I wrote a book,' Violet announced, proudly. 'It was a seminal work of its day, though I'm sure some bright young thing has proven all my hypotheses false by now.'

'What…what was your subject?' she asked.

'The Dynamics of Combustion…' Violet replied.

Molly's mind was suddenly spinning back to her own student days.

'Oh, my goodness!' she exclaimed. 'You're Violet Vernet! I-I mean you _were_ …'

'I still am, my dear, under all this organic insulation,' Mrs Holmes replied, with a chuckle. 'Do you mean to say you've heard of me?' She seemed genuinely surprised and even quite delighted, beneath the bluster.

'Oh, Mrs Holmes! I read your book at university! It's a revelation! And I can assure you that no one, before or since, has successfully challenged any of your theories!' Molly was gushing like a teenager at a boy band concert.

'Really?' gasped Violet, a hint of moisture starting in her eye.

'Yes, really,' Molly declared, leaning forward to grasp Mrs Holmes' hand, all nervousness and trepidation dispelled. 'I am truly delighted to meet you! You are a legend!'

Mrs Holmes' smile broadened and she squeezed Molly's hand back but then her expression sobered and she too leaned forward and said, fiercely,

'Don't ever be ashamed of being clever, Molly, and don't let the Glass Ceiling keep you from achieving your true potential. I was a traitor to the cause – gave up my career, caved in to the pressures of society – but don't you _dare_ do the same! Promise me!' she hissed.

'I won't,' Molly smiled back. 'I have stood on the shoulders of all the women of science who went before me, to achieve my goals. I can't thank you and your generation enough, Violet!'

Molly pushed up out of her chair and kissed the old lady on the cheek before sitting back down.

Violet Vernet Holmes smiled back at the young pathologist.

'I think you and I are going to get on famously,' she purred. 'Yes, famously!'

ooOoo


End file.
